Tokyo: Rabbit Police and Her Evil Partner

Chapter 397 Menstrual Period

The head of the psychiatry department in charge of the examination was a kind-looking, middle-aged, chubby man named Tadaya Nitta. He spoke with a harmless and peaceful air, making a good first impression.

Fushimi Shika's leg had just been bandaged, making it difficult for him to move. Unable to refuse Kazama Takusai's request, he was wheeled into the department and became the first to undergo examination.

The head of the psychiatry department gave him a few forms and then asked him if he had any recent worries, any unusual symptoms, how his sleep was, and whether he was happy or not. Fushimi Shika selectively answered truthfully, filled out the forms in a few quick strokes, put down his pen, and looked like he had accomplished a great task.

Director Nitta took the form, glanced at it, and then took out a blank sheet of paper, asking Fushimi Shika to draw 'houses,' 'trees,' and 'people'—he could draw them however he wanted, free to express himself.

Fushimi Shika knew that this was a psychological projection test, which assessed information about a subject's psychological state, personality traits, emotions, and feelings by having the subject draw houses, trees, and people on a blank sheet of paper.

For example, a large house may indicate that the subject desires a spacious living space or has high expectations for their family; a small house may suggest that the subject feels depressed or lacks a sense of security.

For example, lush branches indicate that the subject has rich social activities and strong psychological energy; sparse or broken branches may indicate that the subject has encountered setbacks in interpersonal communication or has lower psychological energy...

In short, a professional psychologist can discern a person's general psychological state from a single chart.

Unfortunately, Fushimi Shika is also a professional.

He pretended to paint freely and haphazardly, but in reality, every stroke was carefully considered, much like Picasso's doodles, which seemed random but actually contained hidden secrets.

After finishing the drawing, Fushimi Shika put down his pen, opened his arms, and looked remarkably calm.

This time, Director Nitta looked more carefully. He scrutinized her from head to toe, and after a while, he put down the A4 paper, adjusted his glasses, and asked with a smile, "Mr. Fushimi, do you also work in the field of psychiatry?"

“No, I’ve never had any experience with this before,” Fushimi Shika said truthfully, “I’m just an ordinary detective.”

"Oh, I see."

Director Nitta did not argue. He stated that Fushimi Shika was mentally healthy, a sunny, cheerful, enthusiastic, lively, open-minded, and extremely creative good man.

He then issued a medical certificate to Fushimi Shika.

Fushimi Shika was very satisfied, praising Chief Physician Nitta for his superb medical skills and keen insight, and picked up the diagnosis certificate to leave.

Director Nitta pressed down on the diagnosis certificate and beckoned Fushimi Shika to sit down first: "Don't rush, there's something else I need to tell you."

"What?" Fushimi Shika asked.

Director Nitta took a business card out of his pocket, placed it on the table, and slowly pushed it over, saying, "My personal abilities are limited, but I can introduce a more professional doctor... Some things become more serious the longer they are delayed."

Fushimi Shika looked down and saw a line of small print on the business card: "Toshio Arima" - "Psychiatrist".

He picked up the business card, glanced at the back, and saw a long list of titles:

Educational Background: Bachelor of Psychology from the University of Tokyo, Doctor of Clinical Psychology from Kyoto University

Professional Qualifications: Certified Clinical Psychologist by the Japan Psychological Society; Member of the International Association of Psychological Counselors

What does Fushimi Shikashin mean by this? Does he suspect he's ill? A quack! An absolute quack!
He was about to leave with his business card when Director Nitta added, "Of course, it's not that you have any psychological problems, it's just to prevent any accidents..." He shrugged and said, "Everyone has bad days, just think of it as having a safe space to vent. Mr. Arima is a private doctor, going to him won't be recorded in your medical records."

Fushimi Shika hesitated for a moment, then put the business card in his pocket.

"Is this alright now?" he asked.

Director Xintian smiled and nodded, exchanged a few polite words, and then asked him to go to the first-floor window to settle the consultation fee.

Next up was Kazama Takusai. Fushimi Shika had just stepped out when he grabbed him. He demanded that Fushimi Shika show him his medical certificate, and the latter, with a "I can't do anything with you" expression, shoved the certificate in front of Kazama Takusai.

Kazama Takusai scanned the area with his single eye, his prosthetic eye remaining still, his expression shifting between shrewdness and cross-eyedness: "Mental health? Sunny and cheerful? Enthusiastic and lively? I don't care about any of that... What does 'open-minded personality' mean?"

“It means exactly what it says.” Fushimi Shika rubbed the tip of his nose with his index finger, a smug look on his face. “I’ve already told you I’m perfectly mentally healthy. Some people are mentally unstable themselves, so they see everyone else as if they’re brain-dead, and they just have to slander others…”

"quack!"

Kazama Takusai snorted coldly, turned around and left, indicating that he did not want to have his examination done here and had to go to another hospital.

Fushimi Shika, sitting in her wheelchair, grabbed him and slid down the corridor: "Hey, hey, hey! We're already here! How can you run away at the last minute? Are you feeling guilty?"

"I don't want to have my tests done by a quack doctor..."

“An excuse,” Fushimi Shika interrupted.

"A doctor who comes up with this kind of diagnosis is better left untreated..."

"Still an excuse!" Fushimi Shika said with disdain, "We agreed to do the check-up together, but you changed your mind at the last minute... Kazama, don't blame me for looking down on you in the future."

"Who are you calling 'brother'?" Kazama Takusai stopped in his tracks.

"I'm calling you! You two-faced bro!" Fushimi Shika blatantly used provocation.

"I warn you--"

"Brother, brother, brother, brother, brother!!" Fushimi Shika turned his wheelchair around, pushed the wheels with both hands, and quickly fled, shouting as he pushed, "Kazama, brother! If you're really too scared, you should go back first!"

Passersby around the hospital turned their heads and stared at the two of them. An old man with a cane looked Kazama Takuya up and down, thinking to himself that this father had a good temper and didn't even hit his son.

Kazama Takusai clenched his fists, remaining silent.

To be honest, he was really scared.

He was afraid of becoming like Senhime, afraid that he was no different from his wife and daughter. If he were diagnosed with a mental illness, all his past reprimands to his wife and daughter would turn into sharp boomerangs, piercing his heart—this time he didn't even have a reason to numb himself.

After waiting for a while without seeing any patients enter, Director Xintian took the initiative to open the door and call out a number, allowing the next patient to come in for treatment.

"I'm talking to you!" Fushimi Shika gave him a shove. "It's nothing serious, I'm perfectly healthy, what could possibly be wrong with you?"

These words made Kazama Takusai feel a little relieved. He thought to himself that the psychiatrist he was seeing was a quack, and even if he had a problem, the psychiatrist might not be able to see it.

With this in mind, Kazama Takusai remained calm and went inside for a consultation.

Fushimi Shika sat outside waiting, bored. He took out his phone to check his email and found a barrage of text messages from Minamoto Tamako, asking why it was taking so long to buy an ice cream.

He typed back with both hands: "I went to Super Frutto in Bunkyo Ward to grab some limited-edition ice cream, and I'm in line now."

Minamoto Tamako: "Really? Can I have two scoops of ice cream?"

Fushimi Shika continued typing, making things up: "Sure, what flavor do you want?"

Genji Tamako: "Limited-edition strawberry and chocolate blueberry flavors, thank you."

Minamoto Tamako: "Sakurako said she wants some too." Minamoto Tamako: "Could we have another scoop of ice cream?"

Fushimi Shika had already planned it out. He would just say that when it was his turn, the ice cream was sold out, and he would just buy a few popsicles from a convenience store to make do.

Since it's just a blank check, it doesn't matter how big it is. Fushimi Shika replied, "No problem, what flavor does she want?"

Genji Tamako: "Chocolate blueberry flavor, thank you."

Fushimi Shika: "Then why don't you just give her one of your ice cream scoops?"

Yuan Yuzi isn't replying to messages anymore; she probably doesn't know how to respond. It seems she really wants two scoops of ice cream, but doesn't want to appear stingy.

Fushimi Shika waited for another half hour, gradually becoming impatient, thinking to himself, "What's so interesting about Kazama Takusai chatting with that quack doctor that they can talk for so long..."

Just as he was wondering whether he should eavesdrop by the door, Kazama Takusai pushed open the door to the clinic and came out with the diagnosis report.

"How is it?" Fushimi Shika held out his hand: "Let me see."

"There's nothing wrong." Kazama Takusai folded the diagnosis report in half and put it into his coat pocket.

“If there’s no problem, then let me see,” Fushimi Shika tried to put her hand into his pocket. “Why are you hiding it?”

Kazama Takusai twisted his waist to avoid his groping hand: "There's nothing to see."

Fushimi Shika, like a hungry tiger pouncing on its prey, grabbed the hem of his coat: "What kind of logic is it to not let us see the results? What was the point of me having you do the tests then? Hand them over now!"

"I already said there's no problem. If you keep this up, don't blame me for being ruthless!"

What leniency do you have to offer me?

"Let go! Stop pulling and tugging... Take your hand out of my pocket!"

"Then don't grab my wrist! I'll pull my hand away right now!"

"Leave the diagnosis report!"

"Do not stay!"

"You bastard, how dare you lay a hand on me—"

"Damn it, you kicked my wound, didn't you—"

The two wrestled in the department corridor, their bodies intertwined like a pretzel. Fushimi Shika's ground grappling skills were superior; even with a leg down, Kazama Takusai was no match and could only watch helplessly as he flipped open the diagnosis report with one hand and quickly glanced at it:
"Mild depression... PTSD... that's nothing!"

No sooner had he finished speaking than Fushimi Shika heard a crisp sound from beneath him, like the sound of a pistol being pulled, followed by a cold, cylindrical object pressing against his lower abdomen.

He realized he had gone too far with his joke, and when he looked down, he saw that Kazama Takusai's face was so gloomy that he looked like he wanted to kill someone.

"Haha, I was just kidding," Fushimi Shika chuckled, stuffing the diagnosis back into Kazama Takusai's pocket. "Why bother with all that... there are so many people watching here."

He staggered to his feet, helped Kazama Takusai to his feet as well, and brushed the dust off his coat. The latter holstered his gun, his face cold and silent.

"Don't look at me like that," Fushimi Shika said innocently, "Didn't I show you the diagnosis? We're even now..."

Before he could finish speaking, Kazama Takusai threatened in a low voice, "If you dare to tell anyone about this..."

“How could that be? You have to trust my character,” Fushimi Shika interrupted.

Kazama Takusai glared at him, then turned and left. Fushimi Shika waved, asking him to help push the wheelchair, but the latter didn't react and left the hospital on his own.

Left with no other option, Fushimi Shika had to push his wheelchair home by himself.

When he passed by the Super Frutto ice cream shop, he saw a long line outside the store. The store was indeed offering limited-edition seasonal desserts today.

The two little kids were at the front of the line, having bought extra-large scoops of ice cream, which they licked with gusto. Fushimi Shika, watching with a bit of envy, pushed his wheelchair over and asked:

"I'm disabled, can I cut in line?"

The customers in line were very charitable, saying they wouldn't mind waiting a little longer, which allowed Fushimi Shika's treacherous scheme to succeed.

He bought four extra-large ice creams, put them in an icebox to prevent them from melting, then took a taxi back home, left his wheelchair in front of Kazama Takusai's house, and went straight into his room.

"Wuhu! Ice cream party!!"

Fushimi Shika slid down on one foot and landed on the sofa, excitedly rubbing her hands together. She then told Minamoto Tamako to wash the spoons—ice cream is best eaten with a metal spoon; using a wooden or plastic liquid spoon will leave your hands covered in sticky liquid.

Hira Sakurako happened to be watching TV in the living room when she saw this scene and couldn't help but criticize Fushimi Shika for being childish. The latter thought about it briefly and realized that he had indeed been behaving childishly a lot lately.

However, in psychology, when a person is in an intimate relationship, they will exhibit a certain degree of childish behavior—for example, liking their partner to call them baby, sharing toys or favorite TV shows with their partner, or doing some meaningless and abstract behaviors that only children would do.

This is precisely proof that one feels secure in this intimate relationship.

Being able to be yourself without restraint in front of your lover, revealing the 'child' deep inside, is undoubtedly a happy thing for most people.

After careful consideration, Fushimi Shika immediately denied this possibility, believing that he had simply let himself go because his time was coming to an end.

Ping Yingzi went to the kitchen to wash her spoon, opened the ice cream container, and prepared to enjoy it first. She casually said, "Tamako just got her period and is resting in her room... Why don't you take the ice cream in?"

Fushimi Shika did not get up. He opened the ice box himself and said, "Never mind, you can't eat ice during your period. I'll just have to bear the pain and enjoy it for her."

"No!" came Minamoto no Tamako's shout from the room.

“If it melts, you can’t eat it,” Fushimi Shika replied.

"Put it in the refrigerator! I'll eat it in a few days!" Yuan Yuzi was reluctant to part with it.

“This is fresh dairy product. It will expire and spoil in just one day, even if you put it in the refrigerator.” Fushimi Shika ruthlessly rejected the idea.

"Then I'll eat it now!" Yuan Yuzi leaned against the wall and walked out of the room, her little face stubborn as she insisted, "Who says you can't eat cold things during your period? I've never heard of such a thing!"

"Whatever, just don't come to me when you have period cramps."

Fushimi Shika didn't want to argue with Minamoto no Tamako; one was enough for him, since it wouldn't be his stomach that hurt later.

He crossed his legs and put them on the coffee table, turned on the TV with the remote, and watched TV while eating ice cream. Ping Yingzi knelt down beside him, mimicking his movements.

Despite her discomfort, Yuan Yuzi sat down at the coffee table, opened the ice cream box, scooped out a piece of ice cream with a wooden spoon, put it in her mouth, and squinted her eyes in enjoyment.

Sweet, icy cold, and tastes amazing!
(End of this chapter)